


afraid of everything

by iwasfollowingyou



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: AKA finn and poe are actually allowed to discuss their ptsd and survivor's guilt, Bisexual Finn (Star Wars), Co-Generals, Fear, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Gay Poe Dameron, Jealousy, Jedi Rey (Star Wars), Last Ones to Know, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers, Survivor Guilt, fuck you rian johnson and jj abrams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:04:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22309111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasfollowingyou/pseuds/iwasfollowingyou
Summary: “You’re—you’re anxious.” Finn’s voice is hushed. “Scared.”Poe forces himself to swallow. “Yeah,” he whispers.“Of me?”He starts to shake his head, then pauses. “Kind of.”There’s a flash of hurt behind Finn’s eyes. “Why?”“I don’t know.”(OR: poe dameron submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known)
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 37
Kudos: 389





	afraid of everything

**Author's Note:**

> some songs that i think provide a very good soundtrack for this fic:
> 
> i will follow you into the dark — death cab for cutie  
> afraid of everything (acoustic) — milo greene  
> ease my mind — ben platt  
> ready to call this love — MIKA & jack savoretti  
> in our bedroom after the war — stars

Poe never thought that victory would be so lonely. The celebrations are over, and the Resistance ( _Still the Resistance?_ he wonders. Is it still the Resistance if there’s nothing to resist?) is back to work, realigning the broken pieces of the galaxy. He’s back to business, doing his best to fill the massive shoes that Leia left behind. And he’s lonely.

He’s always been lonely, really. After his parents died, he felt at odds with the rest of the universe. He had people. But there was never anyone by his side like his parents had been. No one could ever fill the space that they left. Poe outshone most of his peers when it came to flying, and he’s never been humble enough to downplay his skill, but rising in the ranks so quickly left him feeling like he never had the chance to get to know anyone. Despite the friends he has and the fact that he knows that he’s generally well liked, there’s a loneliness that he carries that he can’t seem to get rid of.

He and Finn are co-generals. Same title, same importance. Except Finn has some other role that he’s destined to fill, one that Poe doesn’t know anything about. A role that has Finn heading off with Rey every day for hours on end, without even a made-up excuse to explain it. Poe doesn’t ask questions. He trusts Finn. He knows that Finn is still putting in his share of the work. But there’s still an empty space at Poe’s side.

They lived. That should be enough. But something still doesn’t feel completely _finished_. There’s something nagging at him, as if he’s forgotten something important but can’t put his finger on what it is. He has a sinking feeling that it’s going to end up blowing up in his face.

The command room of the base feels different now than it did before the fall of the First Order. There’s less anxiety, less of a heaviness to the air. Commanders joke and laugh with each other in a way that they rarely did during the war. It’s comforting, if a bit strange. They’re all still getting used to it.

“General,” someone says, grabbing his attention.

“Jago,” he greets her with a nod.

“Do you think we should just get started?”

He looks around the room. Everyone has settled down, and they seem eager to get the meeting started.

“Finn’s not here yet,” Lieutenant Connix points out. “We kind of need him in on this discussion.”

“Anyone know where he is?” Poe scans their faces.

“I saw him and Rey earlier,” Jago tells him. “He’s probably still with her.”

Poe does his best to hide his reaction to that news. It isn’t like Finn to miss meetings, even if he’s busy with other things. Finn is one of the most punctual people Poe has ever met. If Finn is late, he must have a genuine reason for it. But right now, Poe doesn’t think he really cares all that much what Finn’s reason is.

He swallows down his annoyance and nods. “Alright. Anyone have any reason to wait around for a few more minutes?”

“We were supposed to start ten minutes ago,” one of the pilots responds. “No disrespect, sir, but at this point…” There’s a general murmur of agreement.

Poe bites his lip, then sighs. “We can just get started without him. Connix, you can catch him up at some other point. There’s nothing urgent, right?”

She shakes her head. “No. I guess I can brief him later.”

“Okay, the floor is yours” Poe says, nodding to her. She steps forward and taps a few buttons on the console.

“Ivun City, in the Cret system,” Connix tells them, pulling up a map of the city. “We got word that there’s a group of ex-stormtroopers hiding out there. I think, once we’re more certain about it, if we send Jannah and the gen—”

The door slams open, and everyone looks up Finn skids into the room. He holds up his hands and smiles sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, everyone. I didn’t realize what time it was.” He makes eye contact with Poe, who clenches his jaw and looks at Connix again. Finn clears his throat and takes his place at Poe’s side.

“Nice of you to join us,” Poe says, monotone.

“I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

Poe nods shortly. “Alright, Connix, why don’t you catch him up?”

“You didn’t miss much,” she says, shooting Poe a slightly confused look before returning to her map. “There’s some news going around about a group of stormtroopers in the Cret system.”

“Who’s the news from?” Finn asks.

“Sources in the city. Old Resistance fighters. They say this group is pretty reclusive. Keep to themselves. There’s rumors from others that they were part of the Order. Our people are looking for more evidence—gear, blasters, that sort of stuff.” She taps a few buttons, and the map zooms in to a smaller section of the city. “We’re pretty sure they’re located somewhere in here, but we’d need to get some clearer intel before sending anyone in. No one wants to send you guys on a pointless mission. Or worse than pointless, if they’re not so friendly. We trust our sources, but nothing is certain yet.”

Finn glances at Poe, who keeps staring at the map. Finn clears his throat and asks, “You think the same group of us should go again?”

Connix nods. “It worked well last time. They tend to trust you more than they trust any of us.”

“For good reason,” Poe mutters, unable to help himself. Finn shoots him a look. “What?”

“You can’t blast your way through every old Order base.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to!”

“But you were thinking it.”

Poe makes a face, and Finn nods, satisfied that he was right. He lowers his voice to speak to the lieutenant, glancing back at the map. Poe crosses his arms and watches. He knows that this is going to be Finn’s mission to lead; he’s done it before and it makes the most sense. 

There are more former Order soldiers scattered throughout the galaxy than Poe had hoped there would be—once Ren and Palpatine were dead, he had optimistically thought that maybe it would be the end of it all. But nothing in his life is ever easy, and there’s always a threat lurking somewhere. The stormtroopers they manage to track down are usually more willing to give up names and locations than higher-ranking officers. And when they know who Finn is and what he’s done, that he was the first one to defect successfully and live to see the end of the First Order, it’s easier to get information out of them.

“How much longer until we can start planning the mission?” Poe asks.

“We’re trying to get regular updates,” Connix informs him. “Increase our confidence that they’re actually what we’re looking for. It might be a while. But everyone should be in the loop, ‘cause we think this will be a really good opportunity. We need to be ready to move quickly on it.”

“Keep us posted.” She nods, and he scans the room. “Anybody else got anything?” There’s a few turning heads, but no one speaks up. “Alright, great. You’re all dismissed, then.”

The mess hall is loud. Poe sits by himself at one of the tables in the corner, picking absentmindedly at his food. Every once in a while, he looks up, as if searching for something, but everyone is too busy with their own conversations to pay him any attention.

“Poe!” Finn’s voice rings out across the room. Poe’s heart drops a few centimeters in his chest. Finn jogs over and sits down next to him. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?”

Poe shrugs and pushes his tray away from him. There’s a few beats where neither of them speaks, and the din of the other diners briefly overpowers Poe’s ability to think. He keeps his eyes fixed down at the table, doing his best to contain the urge to completely blow up at Finn. He doesn’t get mad at Finn. It just doesn’t happen. And he definitely doesn’t get mad at Finn in the middle of the crowded mess hall.

“Is there a reason you’re giving me the silent treatment?” Finn asks.

Poe looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Not really.”

“C’mon, Poe.” Finn reaches out and puts a hand on Poe’s shoulder; Poe shakes it off. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re not a good liar.”

He sighs. He hates how Finn sees right through him. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Then why do you look like Chewie just took a dump in your cockpit?”

Poe makes a face. “That’s disgusting.”

“But it got your attention.” Finn pokes his upper arm. “What’s up, grumpy?”

“I’m just tired. You know, from running things completely by myself all week.” His sharpness surprises himself. Finn blinks and moves back. 

“Poe, if there’s something you need to say to me—”

“It’s not—forget it. Sorry I snapped.”

He gets up from the table and heads for the door. Finn calls after him, then moves to follow him when he doesn’t respond. Poe hunches his shoulders and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He nods in greeting to a few pilots passing by. He can hear Finn’s footsteps close behind him, and he braces for an unpleasant conversation.

“Poe.” Finn’s hand is on his shoulder again. Poe stops, letting the pressure stay there. Finn tugs him to the side of the hallway, out of the way of others coming and going. “You know you can talk to me. If I did something that made you angry, I’m sorry. But you gotta _tell_ me, otherwise I have no idea why you’re acting like this.”

“I don’t know what you and Rey are up to, but whatever it is, it’d be nice if I could be in the loop for once so I’m not waiting around for you like an idiot.”

“Waiting around for—” Realization dawns on Finn’s face. “The meeting.”

“The meeting,” Poe echoes, just a twinge of mockery in his voice. Finn flinches.

“I’m sorry. It completely slipped my mind. That’s my fault. I told you it won’t happen again, and I swear on that.”

“It’s fine.” He shrugs. “I’m sure you and Rey had more important things to deal with.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Don’t be like what?”

“Whatever you think is going on between me and Rey, it’s not.”

“You think I don’t notice when the two of you run off together, or start whispering, or look at each other with those—with those stupid _looks_ on your faces, like there’s something you know that the rest of us don’t?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what _is_ it like?” His voice is rising; he can’t help it. “I don’t know if you think I’m stupid, or what, but—”

“Poe!”

He stops. A group of people walking past look at them, then quickly look away and speed up.

Finn’s expression is hard, but there’s something softer behind his eyes—concern. It gets on Poe’s nerves. Finn opens his mouth, then closes it again. Poe averts his gaze.

“Poe,” Finn says again, gentler this time. “You know I wouldn’t hide something—”

“Do I, though?” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what you hide from me, Finn! And it’s not—I know I don’t have a right to know _everything_. I get that. You have your own things. But it’s…” He sighs in frustration. “Whatever.”

It feels stupid to say it out loud. He’s not a kid; he shouldn’t be so hurt by his friends having their own relationship. It shouldn’t hurt so much to feel left out of whatever’s going on with Finn and Rey. He hates the stupid twinge of jealousy he feels each time he sees them together. He hates the way they fall silent as he approaches, the way they share secrets that he isn’t allowed to know about. Finn and Rey have some sort of bond that he can never dream of understanding, and he hates how much it hurts to know that.

“I just wish you would trust me,” Poe admits quietly.

“And I wish you would trust me.”

Finn is still staring at him when he looks up. “What are you talking about?”

“Poe, come on.” He’s starting to sound exasperated. “You know that I wouldn’t keep something from you unless I had to. This isn’t—me and Rey aren’t—”

“It’s fine.” It’s not. “I’m not going to pretend that I understand the two of you. Clearly it’s something that I can’t understand. I’ll just keep doing my job, and you keep doing yours.”

He’s being unreasonable. He knows he’s being unreasonable.

He trusts Finn with his life. Finn has saved his ass more times than he can count; he wouldn’t be standing here if not for him. There’s no one in the galaxy that Poe trusts as much as he trusts Finn. He’d walk through fire if Finn asked him to—and he has. He knows that Finn always has his back. But for some reason, when it comes to this, he just can’t let it go.

“You have things you don’t tell me,” Finn says.

“No, I don’t.”

“How’d you and Zorii meet?”

“That’s not—”

“Exactly.” Finn crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “And it’s _fine_. I don’t need to know. You don’t tell me everything. I don’t need to know everything. That’s how human relationships work.”

Finn is always the more logical out of the two of them. And of course it’s logical, Poe knows it’s logical, but his emotions don’t exactly follow logic.

“Do you trust me?” Finn asks. Poe presses his lips together and nods. “Good. Trust me on this.”

“I think Rey is looking for you,” he says quietly. He can tell it stings by the way Finn flinches, but he doesn’t shoot back. Of course he doesn’t. He’s better than that.

“I’ll see you later, then.”

“Maybe.”

Finn looks at him for another moment, then turns to leave. Poe can’t bring himself to watch him go.

* * *

“Do you have a minute?”

Zorii looks at him suspiciously, but doesn’t say no immediately, which is typically a good sign. “Why?”

“I made Finn mad at me and I need either someone to rant to or a strong drink or else I’m going to drive myself absolutely crazy.” As if he isn’t already driving himself absolutely crazy, but at least alcohol might make it a bit easier to deal with.

“Sorry, I don’t condone drinking on the job.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not on the—”

“A general is always on the job,” she interrupts him.

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet here you are, speaking to me anyway.” She smiles innocently, sitting down and propping her feet up. “Go on.” BB-8 rolls up to her, and she pats his head.

He sighs and lets his defenses down slightly. It’s not like he has much of a choice in who he speaks to. The only other person he would talk to is Finn, and he can’t talk to Finn about Finn. And it’s almost comforting that Zorii is so annoyed by him. Having her around is like having an older sister—she’s good at keeping his ego in check. Her snide comments are usually useful in proving his absurd thoughts incorrect when he can’t tackle his anxieties on his own.

“I don’t know what to do,” he says. “Finn and I don’t get angry at each other.”

“What did you do to piss him off in the first place?”

“I might have kind of blown up at him about being late to a meeting yesterday, but really it was me blowing up about him spending so much time with Rey instead of doing his job.”

Zorii quirks an eyebrow. “Okay, first of all—” She holds up one finger— “You have never once in your life _kind of_ blown up about something, so I have to assume that this was very close to a full-blown Poe Dameron shitstorm—”

“I’m not that bad.”

“You are,” she says dryly. BB-8 beeps in agreement, and Zorii lifts another finger. “Second of all, what’s wrong with him spending time with Rey, anyway? She’s your best fighter. She’s a _Jedi_ , for crying out loud. There are worse people he could be spending time with.”

“It’s not about—” He groans. “He’s a general! He has—we have stuff we have to do!”

“What duties has he skipped to hang out with Rey?”

“He was late.”

She gives him an unamused look. “How many times?”

“Once,” he mumbles.

“Exactly. You’re being irrational again. Props to you for being consistent in your irrationality, thought.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why he and Rey—I mean, I guess they’re…” He doesn’t want to say it explicitly. “They have their things. And whatever. Good for them.”

“You think Finn and _Rey?_ ” Zorii laughs. “Have you met Rey?”

He shoots her a glare. “Would you stop acting like I’m an idiot?”

“I will when you stop being one.”

“What do you know that I don’t?”

She smirks. “Would you like me to list them alphabetically or categorically?”

“You’re the worst.”

“I don’t have to listen to you rant about this,” she points out. “And seriously, Poe. Rey and Finn are not a thing. Your jealousy is getting the better of you again.”

“I’m not jealous!” he protests.

“Sure.” She nods with faux pity in her expression. “Not that I want to make you feel better, because I kind of enjoy watching you wallow in your own sorrow, but I am sick of being the one who has to deal with it, so. Rey is not into Finn. I can promise you that.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Just trust me, would you?” She leans back and crosses her arms. “Besides, if they _were_ a thing—which they aren’t—you don’t think Finn would have told you about it? You two are more codependent than anyone I’ve ever met. Trust me on this one. I know what I’m talking about. And you clearly don’t, which is why you were such an ass to Finn about it. You were an ass to _Finn_.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude about it. It just sort of happened!”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s not my fault he’s always running off with Rey and sharing whatever secrets with her and not me.” He hates how petty he sounds, but he can’t stop himself. “But he can’t assume that I’m always completely okay with him parading around like he knows something I don’t.”

“Sure.”

Poe starts pacing back and forth in front of her. BB-8 follows his movements, keeping close to his heels. “He can have other friends. Or whatever he and Rey are,” he adds hastily. “I don’t care about that. But it kind of sucks that I get left out of something that’s clearly important to them. I feel like the bad guy for—”

“You are the bad guy,” Zorii interjects. “Listen to yourself, Poe. You don’t own him.”

“I know I don’t!” He stops in his tracks. BB-8 bumps into his legs and beeps angrily. Poe looks down and quickly says, “Sorry, buddy,” before returning to venting his frustrations. “It just feels like he’s hiding something from me, and it’s weird. We don’t hide things from each other. That’s not how we work.”

That’s never how they’ve worked. Finn is the one person in the galaxy that knows more about Poe than anyone else. Poe has never had someone who he feels as comfortable with as he does with Finn. Only BB-8 has heard more of Poe’s incoherent ramblings about his parents and the war and his dreams and his biggest fears, but BB-8 is a droid, and as much as Poe loves him, it doesn’t really substitute for an actual relationship with another living thing. Despite all of the people around Poe, all of the relationships he formed during the war, sometimes it feels as if Finn is all he has.

His voice is more subdued when he speaks again. “I hate the feeling that he has other people that are more important to him than I am.”

Zorii starts banging her head against the table. “When. Will. It. _End?_ ”

BB-8 rolls back and forth a few times, chirping in concern. Poe immediately leaps back on the defensive.

“Oh, excuse me,” he says sharply. “I put up with how much complaining out of you, and you can’t listen to me for five—”

“Poe. Babe.” Her voice is muffled by the fact that her forehead is still on the table. “You are a general. You are the best damn pilot in the Resistance. You are one of the smartest people I know.”

“Uh, thanks?” The words are complimentary, but her tone suggests otherwise.

“So, _how_ —” She lifts her head— “are you so _stupid?_ ”

Poe blinks in surprise. “What?”

“It is so disgustingly obvious that you are in love with him.”

“ _What?_ ”

Zorii lifts a finger to stop him from saying anything else. He stares at her, mouth open. “Think about it for more than one second.”

“I’m not—” He’s cut off by her finger again.

She rests her temple against her hand, elbow on the table. BB-8 has fallen silent again, looking up at Poe. The droid can’t emote, but Poe swears he’s being mocked.

“I’m not in love with Finn,” he says.

Zorii rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Think about it for a bit, flyboy.” She stands and grabs her helmet. “I have actual work to get done.” There’s another smirk and a quirked eyebrow. “If I could be dismissed, General.”

Poe stares at her for a moment longer. “I—uh, yeah. I—”

“Thank you,” she says, without a hint of appreciation.

He collapses back into a seat and drags his hands down his face. BB-8 chirps once, then follows Zorii out the door.

* * *

Of all the people Poe knows, Zorii has a special talent for getting under his skin. He’s known her for too long, he realizes as he’s lying awake staring straight up at the ceiling. There are people who know him better, but none of them have mastered Zorii’s unique way of touching a nerve (or several—she has a knack for hitting multiple at once).

 _I’m not in love with Finn,_ he tells himself for the hundredth time, as if repeating it will somehow make it truer.

The room is dark around him, but he’s been awake for so long that his eyes have adjusted. Shadows creep across the floor, just enough light coming in through the window to illuminate the furniture and the piles of clothes strewn around the room. BB-8 is asleep (well, as asleep as a droid can be) in the corner. The base has settled down for the night. Every once in a while, someone will pass by the closed door, and Poe will hear the shuffling of their feet and occasional quiet conversation before the noise fades away again. 

At this point, he knows there’s little chance of getting a decent night’s sleep. Groaning quietly, he pulls his pillow out from underneath his head and presses it over his face.

 _If I suffocate, I don’t have to deal with this,_ he thinks fleetingly, but he was never the guy to take the easy way out.

“I’m not in love with Finn,” he says to no one.

He’s not in love with Finn. He _likes_ Finn, sure. Everyone likes Finn. He would be concerned if someone didn’t like Finn. Finn is smart, and brave, and kind, and clever, and one of their best fighters, and fine, Poe will admit that he’s attractive, because it’s objectively true. And he has nice, warm eyes and a blindingly brilliant smile, and whenever Poe is around him he does everything he can to get a laugh out of him, because Finn’s laugh is one of the greatest things Poe has ever heard.

But Poe is not in love with him.

They spent a lot of time with each other while Rey was training on Ahch-To. They work well together—they have from the very first moment they met. Whatever natural chemistry there is between them makes them a nearly invincible fighting force. Finn has the brains and expertise with a blaster; Poe has the flying skills and the connections to get things done.

They’ve always worked well together. It’s why Poe immediately made Finn a general. It’s why he’s always looked to Finn for a second opinion whenever he’s unsure about anything. He can’t run things without Finn at his side. He doesn’t _want_ to run things without Finn at his side.

He sits up and drags a hand through his hair, tugging slightly in frustration. The ring on the chain around his neck hits against his bare chest, and he reaches down and closes his fist around it. 

His mother’s wedding ring—one of the last things that he has from his parents. The metal is cool to the touch, the shape familiar as he rubs his fingertips across it. He holds it in his palm and examines it carefully, even though he’s looked at it enough to be able to describe it in perfect detail, right down to every scratches on the surface.

He doesn’t know if he’s ever been in love with anyone. The war didn’t leave much of a chance for any kind of romance. Even if it crossed his mind from time to time, he refused to even think about starting a family in a galaxy still under the control of the First Order. He saw what happened to families. He saw villages ransacked, parents killed, bodies strewn everywhere. He knew what the First Order did to the children they ripped from their homes. They ended up like Finn—indoctrinated, brainwashed, forced to kill for a regime that didn’t care whether they lived or died. And not all of them could make the same choice that Finn did. The thought of it makes Poe sick to his stomach.

Now that the war is over, he doesn’t know how to start a new life. As sick as it is, the war was his normal. He doesn’t know who he is without it. The people that came out of it with him, the relationships they formed with the risk of death hanging over their heads—he doesn’t know where they go from here.

Romantic love, as a whole, is a foreign concept to him. He understands the love of a family. He understands the love of friends. But he doesn’t know if he would understand romantic love if it ever came around. All he has as a basis is his parents. But that was a long time ago, and their relationship, too, was shaped by the war.

If he were to fall for someone in that way, he thinks, Finn would be it. Finn understands him in a way that no one else does. He’s kind and understanding, but he doesn’t put up with any of Poe’s shit. He knows how to cheer Poe up after a long day, and how to bring him down from the thrill of battle or another near-death experience. Sometimes it seems as if Finn can read his mind, the way he can tell exactly what Poe is feeling from one glance. Being around Finn is easy in a way that Poe has never experienced with anyone else.

The realization comes slowly, then all at once, and hits him in the chest like an X-wing at lightspeed.

“I’m in love with Finn,” he says to himself.

Of course he is. He drops his head into his hands, elbows on his knees, and groans.

“I’m in love with Finn,” he whispers, like he’s sharing a secret with the moonlight peeking in through his window.

The floor is cold underneath his feet. He grabs a discarded shirt and pulls it over his head, then somehow manages to get his boots on without falling on his ass.

The hallway is quiet. Everyone is asleep, as they should be at this hour. Poe makes his way down past the other doors, resisting the urge to break into a sprint. His heart his beating a funny rhythm in his chest.

Zorii opens the door with an understandably annoyed expression. Her hair is pulled out of her face; it makes her look younger than usual. She’s still half asleep and looks just about ready to murder Poe. He stares at her for a few seconds, mouth slightly open. She raises an eyebrow and is just about to speak when he interrupts her.

“I’m in love with Finn.”

She tilts her head and crosses her arms. “Congratulations. You are officially the last one to figure that out.”

“Can I come in?”

Zorii looks back over her shoulder as if longing to shut the door in his face and get back into bed. She sighs. “Fine.”

Poe closes the door behind them and sits down on the floor, leaning back against the bed. Zorii sits up against her pillows, watching Poe. It feels like he’s being observed, like some sort of strange creature.

“I’m in love with Finn,” he says again.

“I know,” she responds. “Literally everyone on base knows, Dameron. You’re not exactly subtle.”

“Subtle? I didn’t even realize until five minutes ago!”

“I think your heart is bigger than your brain sometimes.” She leans over and raps her knuckles on top of his head. He flinches and ducks out of the way, shooting her a half-hearted glare. “Look, Poe. I can barely remember the last time I saw you before Kijimi, and even I could figure it out from two minutes with the two of you.”

“There’s no way I’m _that_ bad,” he protests.

“You are.” She whacks him lightly again. “You’re kind of obsessed with him. But not in a bad way,” she adds when he tries to interject. “You’re protective over him. You sort of… it’s like you’re guarding him, almost. Like you’re ready to jump in front of him when things go wrong.”

His cheeks heat up. “Finn’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself,” he mumbles.

“I know that. And you know it, too. Doesn’t stop you from wanting to protect him.”

Poe rests his head back against the mattress and looks up at the ceiling. It doesn’t quite feel like his world has been turned upside down, but it feels like it _should_ feel that way. He isn’t sure how he never realized he had feelings for Finn before. From what Zorii’s saying, it should have been as obvious to him as it was to everyone else.

“Now what?”

Zorii snorts. “As if I would know. I’m not any better at these things than you are.”

“Yeah, but you’re smart and stuff.”

“Thanks,” she says dryly, but there’s a hint of a smile. “I don’t know. Maybe try _talking_ to him?”

“Why would I do that?”

“You really are hopeless.”

He sighs. “He’s not exactly happy with me right now. I’m—yeah, I’m an idiot, I know. But I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘Hey, I’m in love with you.’”

“Why not?” she asks simply.

“Because what happens when he doesn’t feel the same way and I ruin everything forever?”

“You are so dramatic.”

“It’s part of my charm.”

“What charm?”

“Screw you.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m being serious. He’s my best friend. I don’t want to scare him away over something as stupid as this.”

Zorii raises an eyebrow. “What would you do if I told you that I was in love with you?”

“That would never happen.” He makes a face. “And _ew._ ”

“Hypothetically.”

“I would tell you that you are crazy, because you don’t like men, and that I don’t have feelings for you and that I couldn’t because I don’t like women, and you know this.”

She rolls her eyes. “You are impossible. But either way, would you stop being my friend over it?”

“No,” he admits.

“Exactly.”

“I hate when you’re the voice of reason.”

“Someone has to be.” She yawns. “Now, can you leave so I can go back to sleep?”

Poe nods and pushes himself up off the floor. He looks at Zorii for a second. “I appreciate you, you know.”

“Okay, weirdo.” She’s smiling. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

He can’t go back to sleep; his thoughts are moving way too quickly to even consider settling down again. Instead, he wanders the hallways, taking in the slower, quieter atmosphere of nighttime on base. He isn’t quite sure whether it’s better or worse for his mental state.

 _I’m in love with Finn,_ he keeps repeating to himself. He’s realizing that it should have been obvious. If Zorii could figure it out—if everyone could figure it out, as she claims—then he should have figured it out ages ago. Which sends his mind down another spiral, wondering how long he’s been in love with Finn without realizing it.

It can’t have been that long. Except that maybe it was. Maybe he had mistaken that funny jump in his chest the first time Finn had taken off his helmet for fear or for adrenaline, when really it had been something else. Maybe he had mistaken the relief he felt seeing Finn again after Takodana for something simpler than it was. Maybe all of the moments since then, the flashes of something that he felt every time Finn looked at him, the jealousy that burned in his chest whenever he saw Finn with someone else, had been something deeper.

Poe has never been great at figuring out his own feelings, but this is an entirely new level.

 _Maybe try talking to him,_ Zorii’s voice reminds him, and he silently curses it.

He hates that she’s right. He and Finn don’t keep secrets from each other. He’s a bit of a hypocrite, he realizes, if he keeps this from Finn while getting pissed off at Finn for keeping something from him. But this is different. The concept of confessing to Finn is absolutely terrifying. He doesn’t want to ruin what they already have. Finn is his best friend. They don’t need to be anything more than that; Poe doesn’t want Finn to think that he’s expecting anything in return.

BB-8 is waiting for him when he finally gets back to his room. Poe greets him quietly, and the droid beeps in response. Poe flops back onto his bed and sighs.

“Did you know I was in love with Finn?” he asks, almost rhetorically. BB-8 whistles in affirmation, and Poe groans, dragging his hands down his face. “Any reason you didn’t tell me?” The droid beeps again, and Poe sits up and throws a pillow at him. “Obviously I _didn’t_ know.”

A droid figured it out before he did. _Zorii was right,_ he thinks, then pictures her mocking him and groans again. But if she knows it, and BB-8 knows it, and apparently everyone else in the Resistance knows it, then there’s a higher chance that _Finn_ knows it, too.

He slides down onto the floor, and BB-8 rolls over to him. Poe pats his head and forces a smile. It’s fine. He’s fine. “I guess I am an idiot, huh, buddy?” At least BB-8 doesn’t judge him as harshly as Zorii does.

He’s in love with Finn. He’s been in love with Finn. He just needed some extra time to catch up with that fact.

He’s going to tell Finn.

At some point.

Probably.

But what he told Zorii is true: he’s terrified of ruining things for them. What he has with Finn is unlike any relationship he’s ever had, even with Zorii or his old friends or the pilots he’s flown with since he was tall enough to sit in the cockpit. For some strange reason, he trusted Finn immediately, even though there was really no reason to. At the time, he had contributed that to reckless nihilism—Ren knew about BB-8 and the map, the Resistance didn’t know where Poe was, and he knew that he was going to die.

He was going to die. And then there was Finn.

And they just worked. They understood each other from the very first moment; their conversation had bounced back and forth as if they had known each other for years.

Finn is so fundamentally _good_ that Poe doesn’t know how anyone could not find themselves falling a little bit in love with him. Whatever the First Order tried to do to him didn’t work. They couldn’t break him. Finn refused to be beat down. He refused to submit. He fought back, because that’s what Finn does.

Now Kylo Ren is dead, and Finn is a hero of the Resistance, a general, one of the best-known fighters in the galaxy. Poe can’t help but smile.

They got here together. He doesn’t take for granted the fact that he would be dead if not for Finn, and that Finn might be dead if not for him. Everything they’ve gone through, they’ve gone through together. In the relatively short amount of time that Poe has known him, Finn has become such an integral part of his life that he has no idea who he would be without him. There’s no Poe without Finn. He doesn’t want to lose that over something as stupid as his feelings.

Then again, Finn is too good for that. He’s not the kind of person who would ever shun Poe or react horribly to finding out, regardless of how he feels. But Poe doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle the rejection.

“I’m an idiot,” he says again. BB-8 rolls closer and bumps against Poe’s foot. “Any input? Life-altering wisdom?” A small beep. Poe sighs. “I figured.”

The shadows in his room are starting to lighten as the sky outside changes from black to dark blue. Poe rubs his eyes and sighs. There’s no point sleeping; he knows he wouldn’t be able to if he tried. It’s fine. He’s fine. He can deal with everything he has to do without any sleep. He’s done it before.

He takes a deep breath to recollect his thoughts. Usually, Poe Dameron is not such an introspective person. Most of his life has been guided by impulsive decisions that somehow, in the end, manage to work out in his favor. Impulsiveness is one of his defining character traits, much to the frustration of anyone who has ever had authority over him (Leia especially, though she figured out how to work with it eventually). Poe looks at BB-8 and narrows his gaze.

“I’m gonna do it,” he says, then repeats more confidently, “I’m going to do it.”

Split-second decisions usually have their own way of working for him. Maybe the trend will continue. It has to continue, or else, he thinks, he’ll probably just hop into an X-wing and fly it into the nearest asteroid field.

Finn opens the door before Poe can knock. He looks shocked for a second, then readjusts his expression into something flat and difficult to read.

“Hi,” Poe says carefully. His heart is pounding in his chest, threatening to jump out of his throat. His hands are sweating.

“Hi.”

“Bad time?”

Finn shrugs. “I was just heading out.”

“Bad time, then.”

“No.” Finn sighs. “You can walk with me, if you need to.”

They fall into step beside each other, an uneasy silence enveloping them. It’s early, now, Poe supposes, rather than late, but the base is still asleep. He wonders whether Finn just woke up, or if he also never fell asleep, but the awkwardness between them makes him hesitant to speak first. He can hear his blood rushing in his ears.

“Are you going to say anything?” Finn asks eventually, once they’re outside. “Or—”

“I’m sorry,” Poe says quickly. “That’s—I guess I should apologize first.”

“Me too.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“I was just as bad as you.”

“No. I shouldn’t have—I was angry at you and I shouldn’t have been, and I didn’t… even I didn’t really understand I was so pissed. It wasn’t fair to you. It wasn’t fair of me to be a total asshole because I couldn’t figure out my own shit.”

Finn stops, opens his mouth, then closes it. He sighs and shakes his head. “You weren’t a—”

“I was. And there’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have blown up on you the way I did. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Thanks,” Finn says quietly. “Just maybe come talk to me _before_ you reach the point of blowing up next time?”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Poe runs a hand through his hair. “I was way out of line, and I’m sorry. I should’ve… I was an idiot. Again. But I—I miss you, buddy. I know it probably sounds stupid, but we’re… I don’t like being weird. This is weird.”

“It’s—you’re fine. Consider the weirdness over. It’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you earlier, but you were…” Finn swallows. “I couldn’t figure out why—forget it. Forget it. I—I have something I’ve been meaning to tell you. That I need to tell you.”

Poe furrows his eyebrows and pauses for a moment. “I have something I need to tell _you._ ”

“You go first,” Finn says.

Suddenly, he’s a lot more nervous than he was a minute ago. “No, you go first.”

Finn gives him an odd look. “I’m—I’m force sensitive.”

“I’m in—you’re _what?_ ”

“I wanted to tell you before. I really did. I’m sorry. It was all just—I didn’t know what it was, and it was new, it was freaky, and I didn’t—I should have told you.”

“That’s why you and—”

“Me and Rey.” He nods.

All of the secret glances, the moments they slipped off together, the hushed conversations, the feeling that there was something that they weren’t telling him… Poe’s brain scrambles to make sense of it all. Finn. Force sensitive. Finn. A _Jedi?_

“You’re—” He can’t seem to get a full thought out. Finn looks relieved and anxious at the same time. Poe shakes his head in disbelief. “How long…?”

“I knew something was different after Starkiller. But it took some time before… I guess I realized what it _might_ be. But I didn’t want to just assume that I had something special about me.” He says this as if there aren’t a million things about him that are special, as if he isn’t special in and of himself. Poe looks at him incredulously. “It really clicked when I met Jannah. Her and the rest of her group, all of the former stormtroopers, we all had this—this feeling. That told us to give up. Abandon the First Order.”

“The Force.” Poe is dumbstruck.

There’s a tiny smile on his face now. “It was the same feeling that led to me saving you.”

“The _Force_ told you to save me?”

He has to admit, it’s not the strangest thing that’s ever happened to him. He has always wondered exactly why Finn chose to desert the First Order at that exact moment, why he chose to save Poe. Out of all of the prisoners that must have come through Kylo Ren’s clutches, he had chosen to save Poe.

_Because it’s the right thing to do._

_You need a pilot._

_I need a pilot._

“I don’t know if that’s exactly…” Finn sighs. “It’s hard to explain. It was—I made a choice, but it was like this feeling telling me that I _could_. It told me that I could leave the First Order. But it didn’t make me. And then the same thing with you. It was like it was nudging me towards rescuing you, but in the end I was the one who made the decision. If that makes sense.” He’s nervous.

Poe nods slowly. “So, this entire time, you and Rey have been, what, training?”

“Pretty much. She’s been teaching me how to use it.”

“That’s what you weren’t telling me.”

“Yeah.” Finn winces. “I’m sorry I didn’t, but I was trying to get a better—”

“Don’t apologize,” Poe interrupts, shaking his head. “That was—I was a total dick about that, and I’m sorry. You were right. We don’t have to tell each other everything. It just—it kinda stung, you know? Feeling left out.”

“I know. I still wish I had handled it better.”

“Forget it.” He tries for a smile. “But seriously, general _and_ Jedi? You just had to one-up me?”

“Always.” Finn’s eyes are brighter, all anxiety gone from his expression. Poe looks down at Finn’s hands. Finn lifts his palm up, and Poe hesitantly takes it in his own hand. He looks it over, as if there’s going to be something different there—something that would indicate what power Finn holds. He shivers as he carefully traces the lines of Finn’s palm. His skin is warm under Poe’s fingertips.

Poe looks up to meet Finn’s eyes. Finn is suddenly standing closer, and Poe quickly drops his hand. They stare at each other for a minute. The air feels heavy around them.

“What was it that you needed to tell me?” Finn asks.

Poe’s mind goes blank for a second; it takes some effort to remember what he had been prepared to say before Finn threw a wrench in the plans. Finn is waiting expectantly, eyes wide and innocent. Poe swallows dryly and shoves his hands into his pockets.

It seems almost stupid to confess now. The adrenaline that had been pushing him forward is gone, though his heart is still pounding in his chest. He had thought (stupidly, maybe) that it wasn’t a terrible idea to run off and tell Finn when he’s barely had enough time to process the information himself. This won’t turn out well for either of them. Something about the moment no longer feels right. Part of it is fear, he knows, which is not like him in the slightest. Poe Dameron is not someone who gets held up by fear. But there’s something different this time. Something different about Finn.

“I’m—forget it,” he manages to say. “It’s not important.”

Finn furrows his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Because it seems like it’s—”

“It’s fine.” His mouth is dry. “Really.”

“You know, if you’re worried about…” Finn clears his throat. “Me being, you know. It doesn’t change anything. I’m still _me_. We’re still… we’re still us.”

“You’re not planning on ditching me for all your cool new Jedi friends?” he jokes weakly.

Finn is impossibly earnest. “Never in a million years. You can’t get rid of me that easily. And besides, there’s no one cooler than you that I could be hanging around.”

His heart skips a beat (or several), even though it’s just routine for them. It’s just Finn. There’s nothing special or different about it, except that there is. Poe has to look away for a second. The sun is peeking out through the tree line. Soon, he knows, the base is going to wake up, he’s going to have to get back to work. He doesn’t really want to. Despite the odd tension stretched between them, he wants to stay here.

“Wait,” he says uncertainly. “Can you… can you read minds, then?”

His memories throw him back into a cold, bright room on Starkiller Base, restraints around his wrists and ankles, freezing metal against his back. Ren’s mask, inches from his face, the shock of pain as he dragged the truth out of Poe’s mind. He shivers and rubs his right thumb over his left wrist bone.

“No.” The relief is instant. “At least not in the way that you’re thinking of.” Finn’s eyes drop down to Poe’s hands, and he quickly moves them back to his sides. “I can’t hear your thoughts or anything. But I can sort of… it’s like I can sense what you’re feeling.”

He wonders if Finn can sense the fear gripping at his heart now, the dread of knowing that Finn could have figured it out, that all of Poe’s thoughts and feelings would be laid bare for Finn to judge.

“What am I feeling?” He regrets it as soon as the words leave his mouth, and he scrambles to pull back. “Never mind, that’s stupid, you’re not—”

He’s cut off by Finn’s eyes on his. There’s a subtle intensity behind them, one that Poe has noticed before but never let himself dwell on too much. Finn’s eyes are like the rest of him—there’s the surface layer, and then there’s always something deeper. When they first met, Poe had wrongly assumed it was something dark and insidious. Finn had once been a stormtrooper; it had been logical, Poe had thought, to be slightly suspicious of him. Yet he had trusted him immediately anyway, and likely against his better judgment. Seconds after Finn had taken his helmet off and told Poe confidently _I’m breaking you out,_ Poe was ready to trust him with his life. It had been that same intensity that he sees now that had told Poe that what he was seeing wasn’t the entire picture. Something deeper, something _brighter_. He doesn’t think it has a name.

“You’re—you’re anxious.” Finn’s voice is hushed. “Scared.”

Poe forces himself to swallow. “Yeah,” he whispers.

“Of me?”

He starts to shake his head, then pauses. “Kind of.”

There’s a flash of hurt behind Finn’s eyes. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“I thought…” Finn takes a step back. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

“What?” His heart drops. “Finn, no, that’s not—”

“I didn’t want you to see me any differently. I’m not—I’m still _me_. Nothing about me has changed.”

“I know.”

“But you’re scared.”

“Not of you.”

“Then of _what,_ Poe?”

 _Of myself,_ he wants to say, wants to _scream._ _Of myself and the things I feel for you, of myself and the desperation I feel whenever I look at you, of myself and how much I need you._

“I don’t know,” he says.

Finn takes another step back and lifts his hands. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—I didn’t want to mess things up. I should’ve just kept it to myself.”

“Finn, that’s not—”

“General.” His tone is too formal. It’s not like him, not like them. “I—I need to go get started training for the day. Before I waste any more of your time.” It stings, like a sharp prick to the finger. “And I’m sure you have other things you need to do, too.”

“Finn.”

Finn shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re scared of, Poe.” His voice is softer now. “And if it’s me, I’m sorry. But I’m not—you know me. You _know_ me.” There’s a hint of desperation in his words. “This wasn’t supposed to mess anything up. But you had to know. I wasn’t—I could never keep things from you. I can’t.” He takes a shaky breath. “And whatever it is you’re keeping from me, I hope—I hope you figure it out. Because I still—I still want _you,_ Poe. I’m still the same person. There’s nothing about me that you need to be afraid of.”

_There are so many things about you that I need to be afraid of._

“I’m not scared of you,” he tries. “I’m scared of—fuck, I don’t _know._ ”

He doesn’t know how to put it into words. He can’t, not without sounding like a complete fool. The distance between their bodies is too much; he wants to reach out and touch Finn. He knows he can’t.

“Poe.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know how to—how to tell you—”

“Then don’t. And if you figure it out, you know where to find me.” He smiles, like a courtesy, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m—I’m happy for you,” Poe says quietly. “I’m proud of you. You’re a good man, Finn.”

Finn nods hesitantly. “Let me know if you figure it out.”

* * *

It’s as if the conversation never happened. They’re back to exactly the way they were before: Poe avoids Finn, Finn avoids Poe, and Poe tries his best not to think too much about Finn or Finn’s eyes or Finn’s hands or the terrifying power that Finn holds.

Poe doesn’t blink when Finn disappears with Rey. He ignores their conversations, forces himself not to overthink the things they’re sharing with each other that they could never share with Poe. He tries not to feel inadequate. He feels inadequate. He feels like a disaster, like a terrible person and a terrible friend.

There are few better ways to avoid a situation than leaving the planet. Poe takes every opportunity to join in on missions, whether or not they actually need him. He wants to see what’s happening on the ground, he says, which isn’t a lie. The galaxy is rebuilding itself, and landing in each system is a breath of fresh air. It reminds him of the few memories he has of a universe before the First Order—those short few years of his childhood before things were broken. And it’s a nice distraction from the things going wrong in his own life.

The galaxy is full of people learning who they are without the impending threat of the First Order looming over them. Cultures returning to their rightful place, the next generation filled with hope of what they can become. He needs the morale boost every once in a while.

He’s just jumped down from the cockpit of his X-wing when he hears a familiar, if slightly unwelcome, voice calling him.

“Poe!”

He turns to see Rey stalking towards him and holds up his hands in surrender. “Would it kill you to call me _General_ every once in a while?”

“Probably,” she says matter-of-factly.

Eyeing the weapon on her hip, he steps back out of lightsaber range. “What can I do for you?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’re probably right, but why?”

She crosses her arms, and he notices the bandage wrapped around her left bicep. He steps forward.

“You alright?”

“Fine.” Rey narrows her eyes. “Just a training injury. It’s mostly healed.”

He instinctively reaches up to rub his arm over the place where the blaster wound had been. It’s pretty much scarred over now, but it still aches every now and then. Poe clears his throat. “Why am I an idiot?”

“Think about it for a minute. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

It clicks pretty quickly. “Finn.”

Rey nods in confirmation and raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know who you think you are, but the way you reacted—”

“It wasn’t—”

“Shut up, would you?” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what you did, but whatever it is, you owe him an apology.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Not much. Just that you reacted badly and that he needed a day off.”

Poe looks down, letting out a breath. His shoes are suddenly much more interesting than looking Rey in the eye. He knows Finn wouldn’t have told her exactly what happened—Finn is too caring to do that—but she knows enough to piss her off. She has the right to be pissed off. So does Finn.

“And then you decided to blast off to whatever system you go to when you want to escape your problems,” Rey continues, “and left me—”

“That’s not fair,” he protests.

“No?” She raises an eyebrow. “Neither was how you treated Finn, and yet here we are. You’re really good at avoiding your problems, Dameron, you know that?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing to me.”

“I’m...” He sighs. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting towards you. You and Finn. I was—I felt like I was being left out of something, and it hurt, and I acted like an asshole because of it. I’m sorry.”

She eyes him warily. “Apology accepted.” There’s a hint of pity in her expression now. “You know Finn would have told you if he could. He just wanted to get a better handle on it before he started telling people. Even you,” she adds, as if she can sense what Poe’s thinking. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out earlier.”

“Well.” He shrugs. “Like you said, I’m kind of an idiot.”

“Wait a second—you’re jealous.”

“What?”

There’s a hint of a smile on her face, and her eyes are now much brighter. “Poe Dameron, you are _jealous._ ”

“I’m not—”

“You are!” Rey laughs delightedly. Poe’s mind reels, trying to catch up with the rapid mood change. “You’re jealous about me and Finn!”

Poe makes a face. “I’m not _jealous_. Shut up.”

He is jealous. She’s right, and she knows she’s right, but Poe is much too proud to admit it. He’s been jealous of Finn and Rey’s relationship since the first time he saw them together. They’ve always had something else that Finn and Poe didn’t have. Not something extra, maybe, just something different. Now, of course, he knows what it is. He still can’t help but feel left out, even though he’s fully aware of how ridiculous he’s being.

“I think you need to go talk to him,” Rey tells him.

“I know.”

“Are you going to?”

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I have a feeling that you’re not going to let me say no.”

Rey smiles innocently and puts a casual hand on her lightsaber. “Your feeling is right.”

“Where is he?”

She shrugs. “Said he was going for a walk earlier. Chewie might have seen him, if he was over by the hangars.”

“You’re a huge help,” he says dryly.

Rey quirks an eyebrow and pulls her lightsaber out of its holster. She spins it in her hand, eyes fixed on Poe’s.

“Okay, I get it.” He holds his hands up in surrender once again, which at this point should just be his natural position whenever he speaks to Rey. “I’m sorry for being an idiot.”

“Don’t apologize for living out your true nature.” She returns the weapon to her hip. “Do you mind if I take an X-wing out for a spin? I haven’t flown in too long.”

“You know I’m not going to stop you.”

“I know, but it’s polite to ask anyway.” She winks and pats his shoulder. “Don’t mess this up again.”

He sighs. “I’ll try not to.”

* * *

Finn is sitting cross-legged in the middle of the clearing, eyes closed and hands resting palms-up on his knees. A collection of small stones floats a foot or so above the ground around him.

Poe stops a short distance away from him, hanging back just at the edge of the trees. He stares. He can’t help it. He’s never seen someone look so at peace while using the Force. Every time he’s seen it used before, it was to deal some kind of damage. His blaster fire caught by Kylo Ren, the pain of Ren pulling information out of his memories, the transport full of stormtroopers exploding as Rey tried to pull it down. He’s never thought of the Force as something that could be controlled like this. 

Right now, it’s not as terrifying as he thought it would be. Finn looks completely calm, like he’s doing nothing more than sitting there. Poe wonders what it’s like inside of Finn’s mind—he’s clearly concentrating, but Poe doesn’t know how he’s doing it. Poe doesn’t have a single clue how the Force works. He doesn’t know that Finn understands it—or if Rey does, for that matter. He wonders if anyone has ever understood it, or if every Jedi has simply trusted it.

“You’re not very good at sneaking up on people,” Finn says, shocking Poe out of his thoughts. The stones hit the ground, and Finn looks over his shoulder at Poe.

“I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you,” Poe responds lamely. “Do you have a minute?”

Finn shrugs. “Sure.” He stands and turns around to face him, wiping the dirt off of the back of his pants. He nods towards a fallen tree, and they each take a seat. 

The forest is alive around them, leaves rustling and bugs singing. The quiet murmur of people back on base rises and falls.

They sit in silence for a few moments. Poe isn’t sure exactly what he’s supposed to say. He knows he should probably start with an apology, but he doesn’t know how to start an apology. He can’t explain why he acted the way he did without getting into a lot of deeper issues that he isn’t sure he’s mentally prepared to tackle. 

Finally, Finn speaks. “I’ve been talking to Rey.”

“I know.”

“What?” He furrows his eyebrows “Oh. No, not about that. Although… yeah, I’d watch out for her for a bit. She’s not very happy with you.”

“What else is new?” Rey is mad at him more often than not.

“We’ve been talking during training sessions. About me. Where I came from. My—my family. Whoever they were.” He pauses. Poe can’t read minds, but he can sense Finn’s discomfort from the way his voice shakes slightly and how he shifts uncomfortably on the log. “It’s… I mean, it’s something all of us went through. Some handled it better than others.” Poe can tell he’s struggling to remain nonchalant. “And Rey understands, too. Not knowing who your family is.”

Poe often forgets how lucky he was as a kid. His parents were busy, sure, but they were there. He knew them, at the very least.

“So, we’ve been talking about it. She decided after Exegol that she was going to take on the Skywalker name. For Luke. And Leia.”

A small smile comes to Poe’s face at that, along with a twinge in his chest. “Leia would have liked that.”

He misses her. They all do. But Poe shared something with Leia that none of the other members of the Resistance did. He wasn’t sure what it was that caused Leia to be drawn to him—maybe it had been losing her own son, or maybe Poe reminded her of Han (which, when he thinks about it, seems a bit too unlikely. He’s no Han Solo). But regardless of where it came from, they had a connection that no one else did, at least until Rey had come along. Even then, Poe’s relationship with Leia had been something else.

“She’s been talking with them.”

“What?” Poe frowns.

“There’s—I don’t know how to explain it. Jedi, when they die, they can still… their spirits, or whatever, they can come back. Talk with us. Teach us.”

“I thought Leia—”

“She’s not gone. Not really.”

Poe stares at him. Leia isn’t really gone. His chest fills with hope for a second before it’s quickly dashed by another realization. “I probably can’t see them, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Because I’m not—”

“Yeah.”

He swallows and forces himself to nod. “Right.”

“She knows you miss her.”

“Yeah,” he says sadly.

Finn watches him for a moment, looking as if he’s going to say something else, then moves on. “Rey’s been talking to them. And they said—Rey suggested that I take the name, too.”

It doesn’t register immediately. Poe takes a minute before he understands what Finn just told him.

“You’re a Skywalker.”

Finn smiles, almost shy. “Only in name.”

“Finn Skywalker.” Poe nods slowly, then smiles. “General Skywalker. It has a nice ring to it.”

He knows how Finn feels about not knowing his family, about not having a family name to be proud of. It’s something else that Poe has taken for granted. His family may not be nearly as famous as the Skywalkers, but there’s still the pride that comes with carrying on their legacy. Finn deserves that, too. When Poe first met him, he didn’t even have a name. Now he shares one with the most powerful Jedi ever known.

_I’m gonna call you Finn. Is that alright?_

_Finn. Yeah, Finn. I like that!_

“I’m proud of you,” he says softly.

“Thank you.”

Finn shifts uncomfortably on the log. His manner has dropped to that of a kid trying not to get caught sharing secrets during class. Though there’s no one around to hear them, Poe understands the urge to stay quiet, as if the universe is listening in. 

“Are you still afraid of me?” Finn asks.

Poe shakes his head and laughs, but it’s a sad sound. “Finn, I am _terrified_ of you.” Finn tenses up, and Poe adds, “But not for the reason you think.”

He’s scared of the Force, yes. Well, not scared, maybe. It makes him uncomfortable. He doesn’t like what he can’t understand. The Force is fine as a concept, when it doesn’t have such an impact on his life. He isn’t scared by Rey using the Force. He still can’t figure out why it’s so frightening to know that Finn can use it, too.

“What are you scared of?” Finn asks him.

“So many things.” He’s never admitted it. He’s not supposed to be scared. He’s General Dameron, fearless. General Dameron, brave. General Dameron, who never backs down from a fight.

“Of me?”

 _Yes. No._ “I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of me. Of this.” Finn looks down at his palms. “I don’t understand it either. I was scared of it at first. But it’s not—it’s not scary. Once you get used to it.”

“It’s not just you.”

“What are you scared of?” he asks again. “Besides me.”

“Dying.” His throat is dry. Something in Finn’s tone is begging him to be honest, to lay out everything he wishes Finn could understand. “The dark, some nights. I still flinch whenever there’s an explosion, even in a training exercise. I still—I still have nightmares about…” He looks down at his hands. “Sometimes, it’s like I’m back on Starkiller, but there’s—this time, there’s no you. There’s no one there to rescue me.”

“Poe,” Finn whispers. He reaches out towards Poe, but doesn’t quite touch him.

“I’m scared.” It comes out strangled. “Of more than I’d ever tell anyone.” He meets Finn’s eyes for a split second, then looks away again. “I’m scared—” _Screw the rest of it—_ “I’m scared of losing you, Finn.”

“You’re not going to lose me.”

He shakes his head. “But I could. I almost did. Each time was like—like I was that close to losing a piece of myself.”

“Everyone is afraid sometimes.” Finn’s fingertips on his arm. “The nightmares I have would terrify you. But it’s—it’s almost better. When I had nightmares with them, there was no relief in waking up. Now, even though I’m scared, I know that I’m safe. I know that you’re down the hallway, that Rey is on the other side of the wall, that Lando and Chewie and Threepio would throw themselves in front of a blaster for me.” He sounds awed, as if he still can’t quite believe that it’s true. “I know I’m safe, but I still get scared. We all do. It’s what makes us human.”

There are tears pricking at the corners of Poe’s eyes, and he quickly blinks them away before Finn can see. “I think you understand what it’s like to be human better than any of us.”

“I didn’t know what it meant to be human before I met you.” His voice is quiet. “ _You,_ Poe.”

“That’s just luck. You and me—that was just luck.”

Finn shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re—just ‘cause I was the first person you met who actually treated you like a human. It would’ve been the same if I had been anyone else. I’m not special.”

“That’s not it.” Finn isn’t looking at him. Poe doesn’t think he could handle this if Finn was looking at him. He can barely handle it as it is. “Because the way you treated me is the same way that Rey treated me, and Han, and Leia, and Rose, and everyone else. They all treated me like I was worth something besides another gun.”

“So what’s different about me?”

Finn falls quiet. Someone shouts in the distance, followed by a short burst of laughter. Something rustles in the trees nearby. Poe lets the silence wrap around them and pull tight. It feels as if the galaxy has come to a standstill, and the only thing moving is his heartbeat. He risks a glance at Finn. The fading sun catches his skin and bathes it in soft golden light, dark eyes reflecting sparks like stars. Poe looks back towards the forest.

“Being human isn’t—it’s not just how other people treat you. It’s not the fact that I was suddenly being treated like I was a _person_ that made me feel like a human for the first time in my life.” He takes a shaky breath in and lets it out slowly. “Being human is about love. Love is what it means to be a person.” He looks at Poe. His hand is moving closer to Poe’s. Poe turns his palm up, and Finn’s fingers slide over his skin before they interlock with his. Poe’s heart skips a beat. “You taught me what love is supposed to feel like.”

“Finn.” It’s just a breath.

“I know.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” His heart is pounding louder. “I’m not afraid of _you_. I’m afraid of what I feel for you. I’m afraid—I’m afraid because I feel so _much_ , and I’m afraid that if I lost you I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“Poe.” His voice tells Poe to look at him, and he does. His hand is warm in Poe’s. “You think I’m not afraid of you?”

“Of me?” Finn nods. Poe shakes his head. “What is there to be afraid of?”

Finn smiles, small and secretive. “You have no idea.”

His hand is starting to sweat. He tries to pull away, but Finn tightens his grip. “I’m not—I’m just me. There’s nothing…” He trails off. “I’m just me.”

“Exactly.” Finn laughs softly. “Poe, you’re one of the most intimidating people I’ve ever met. You are _brilliant_. You’re the greatest pilot I’ve ever known. You’re handsome, you’re charming, you’re smart. You ever wonder why people don’t mess with you?”

“You’re scared of me?”

Finn sighs and looks down at their hands. Poe shivers. “Not in that way. At first, yeah, I was. You were this hotshot Resistance leader and I was just—I mean, I was a stormtrooper. I was expecting you to kill me at any moment. But I’m still… I don’t know how to explain it.” Poe understands the feeling. “I’m terrified of you. It’s—it’s this feeling, like…”

“The Force?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Something else.”

Poe searches his expression. “In your chest, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Like… tight. Like the moment in a battle right before the adrenaline kicks in. When everything slows down, and it’s like you can see the blasters coming before they hit you, and you realize that you could die. The way your chest—it seizes up and you realize that you might not make it out alive.”

Finn looks up at him, surprise in his eyes. “That’s it.”

“And it’s terrifying.”

“Yes.”

Finn leans in closer. Poe swallows the lump in his throat. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“That’s why you’re scared of me?”

“Yes.” They’re close enough that Finn can probably feel his breath.

“You’re not going to kill me, right?”

“No.” Poe shakes his head. “But I think you might kill me.”

He lifts his other hand and tentatively places it against Finn’s jaw. Finn almost imperceptibly leans into his touch, then brings his hand up to cover Poe’s. Poe leans towards him, closing his eyes even though he desperately wants to keep looking. Finn presses his forehead to Poe’s, and they each take a shaky breath.

“Finn,” he whispers.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Finn kisses him.

And everything falls into place.

His lips are soft and warm and gentle. Poe brushes his thumb across Finn’s cheek and marvels at the way Finn responds to his touch. He isn’t sure what he expected it to feel like; contrary to what many of his friends would think, he hasn’t allowed himself the pleasure of spending _that_ much time thinking about kissing Finn. The terror that gripped his heart just moments earlier has settled just underneath it. There’s a warmth spreading through Poe’s body, beginning where his fingertips touch Finn’s cheek and traveling down his arm into his chest. It feels good. It feels right.

Finn lets go of Poe’s hand and wraps his around the back of Poe’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Poe lets out a soft sound against Finn’s lips, and Finn pulls away. Poe chases the contact and is rewarded with a shorter, sweeter press of Finn’s lips to his own.

Finn is staring at him when he opens his eyes again.

“I love you,” Poe tells him.

That soft, secret smile again. “I know.”

They pull back, Poe’s hand dropping from Finn’s jaw, but Finn catches it in his. He holds Poe’s hand in his lap and traces over the lines of his palm. Poe resists the urge to pull his hand away; he feels dirty, almost. Unworthy. He forces the feeling down and watches the path of Finn’s fingers over his skin.

“I’m not like you,” Poe says quietly. It’s an apology.

“No, you’re not.” Finn’s movements pause. “And I don’t want you to be.”

“No?”

Finn shakes his head. “You already feel so much,” he says, repeating Poe’s own words back to him. “I think if you felt what I feel, it would tear you apart.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No. It’s… I don’t know how to explain it. It makes it all more—more intense, I guess? But it’s better now. I understand what it is, so it’s easier to—to control it. I don’t feel so angry anymore. Or scared. Or even the good stuff, it was like I felt it a thousand times stronger. I thought it was something everyone went through. I didn’t understand how people went through life like that. Like I was going to burst at the seams.”

Poe nods. “I think I know what you mean.”

“And I can control it now, except…” He glances up at Poe, then back down at their hands. “Except when it comes to you.”

“Finn?”

“You do something to me, and I don’t know how, and I can’t explain it, but it…” He takes a deep breath. “Just now? That was the first time it’s ever felt calm.”

Poe closes his hand around Finn’s. Finn meets his eyes, and Poe leans in, pressing their lips together again. It feels like he’s standing on a raft in the middle of the sea, the deck rocking beneath his feet and throwing him with the waves, and he can’t get a steady footing. But it doesn’t bring the panic that he would have expected. He leans in closer.

“That feels _calm?_ ” he asks breathlessly when they pull away again.

Finn nods. “It all just stops.”

“It does the opposite for me.”

Finn presses his forehead against Poe’s. His hand is shaking, and Poe tightens his grip around it. Finn swallows. “I love you.”

Poe’s heart leaps into his throat. “Finn,” he manages to choke out.

“Right here.”

“I love you,” he says back to him, feeling like the words are truer when he says them out loud, like they’re truer when Finn hears him say it. “I love you.”

“You’re still scared,” Finn whispers.

“I’m always scared.”

Finn wraps both arms around him, and Poe buries his face against his neck. The light has faded around them, but Poe scarcely notices the time passing. Someone’s going to come looking for them soon. He doesn’t care.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Finn’s voice is just a breath. “Of this.”

“I know.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know.” His mouth is dry again. “I think I’m starting to get used to it.”

Finn pulls back and moves a few inches away from Poe. Poe goes to follow him, but Finn holds up a hand and gestures for him to wait. “Watch.”

He closes his eyes and lifts his hand slightly. A few of the pebbles he had been lifting earlier rise off of the ground. Poe stares at them in wonder, then looks back at Finn. Poe stands carefully and walks into the middle of the clearing. The stones circle around him, a short distance away from his body. He spins slowly, eyes flicking between them. He stops when he’s facing Finn again.

“It’s not something you have to fear,” Finn says quietly, surprising him. “I was scared of it, at first. But there’s nothing scary about it. Just like… like your emotions. Are you scared of those?”

“Sometimes.”

“It’s not something that I’m scared of when I have control over it.”

The stones drop, and Finn stands up. He walks to Poe with his hands up as if in surrender. Poe nods slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For acting like I did.”

“You already apologized for it.”

“Feels like I should apologize again.”

Finn shakes his head, a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth. “I get why you did.”

“We’re okay?”

“Yeah. We’re okay.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Finn laughs. “Come here, flyboy.” He pulls Poe in and kisses him softly. Poe practically melts against him, cupping the back of his neck to keep him in place.

Finn loves him.

Finn _loves_ him.

His eyes are closed, but he gets the strangest feeling that the stones are flying around them again, and smiles into the kiss. _I love you,_ he thinks, and Finn pulls him in tighter, as if he heard Poe say it.

* * *

Connix’s intel about the ex-stormtroopers comes in a couple of weeks later. They need to move quickly, she tells them, or they risk the group realizing that they’ve been found out and moving to a new location. 

Some of Finn’s things have found their way into Poe’s bedroom, and Poe trails at Finn’s heels to help him pack the small bag he’s taking with. He hovers awkwardly by the door, hands in his pockets, while Finn grabs his stuff.

“I think that’s everything.” He closes up the bag and swings it over his shoulder. He looks up at Poe and smiles. “Alright, General. Coming to see me off?”

“I, ah…” Poe shifts awkwardly. “Can we—can we say goodbye here?”

They’ve been discreet about the whole thing. Around everyone else, they’re simply back to normal—the argument that they had been having, the details of which aren’t important, is over, and they’re back to getting along like they did before. Except to Rey and Zorii, who realized right away what was going on and who both cornered Poe (on separate occasions, though only a couple of hours apart) to interrogate him about it. It’s not that he doesn’t _want_ people to know, but he doesn’t want people to know. His relationship with Finn has always been his and his alone. No one else needs to be involved, as far as he’s concerned.

“Course.” Finn nods and sets the bag down. Poe steps forward, and Finn wraps his arms tightly around him. Poe presses his face against Finn’s neck and takes a deep breath in. The mission isn’t very high-risk, but Poe worries anyway, because that’s what he does. Finn pulls back and grabs Poe by the shoulders, forcing him to look him in the eye. “Hey. I’m going to be fine,” he says, as if he can read Poe’s mind.

“I know.” Poe tries for a smile. “Just—just be careful, alright?”

“Am I ever not?”

“You can be a bit reckless, Finn.”

“Coming from you?”

“I never got into a lightsaber fight with Kylo Ren.”

“Hey, I almost won!” Finn protests.

“Yeah, and you also almost _died._ ”

Finn rolls his eyes before kissing Poe softly. Poe wraps his arms back around Finn’s torso. His hands move over the rough stitches along the back of the jacket, the seam where it had once been ripped apart.

_Keep it. It suits you._

It still does, better than it ever suited Poe.

“I’ll be careful. Promise,” Finn says as he pulls away. He steps back and grabs his bag again, then kisses Poe’s forehead.

He gets about halfway down the hallway before Poe breaks into a jog and chases after him.

“Finn, wait up.”

Poe stops and stands in front of him. Finn raises an eyebrow and tilts his head expectantly. Poe opens his mouth, then closes it again. He stares for a moment longer, then glances around to make sure no one is within earshot.

“I love you.”

Finn smiles. “I love you too.”

Poe forces himself to swallow and ignores the sweat on his palms. His face heating up, he carefully takes the chain from around his neck and drops it over Finn’s head.

“What’s this?” Finn asks. He holds the ring between his thumb and index finger.

“Good luck charm?” he offers.

Finn holds up the ring, then meets Poe’s eye through it. The smile on his face is soft. Poe shifts his weight, feeling extremely exposed. Finn tucks the chain safely underneath his shirt and then pulls Poe back in. Poe hides his face against Finn’s neck and closes his eyes. He feels Finn’s lips against the side of his head, fleeting but there.

“You really are a corny motherfucker, you know that?” Finn asks, and Poe laughs.

Suddenly, there’s a whistle from the end of the hallway, and Jannah calls out, “Finn! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Let’s go!”

“You’re being summoned, General,” Poe says quietly.

“I know.” Finn hugs him tighter before stepping away.

“Be safe out there, got it?”

Finn salutes him. “Always.”

* * *

“I should have gone with them.”

“What good would you be?”

Rey is lounging comfortably in one of the chairs in the common room, legs draped over one arm and feet dangling. She’s holding a bowl full of some kind of berry, popping them into her mouth one by one.

“I don’t know! I could be doing _something!_ ” He runs a hand through his hair as he continues pacing.

“Yeah, let’s send both of our generals on a mission a hundred parsecs away. Brilliant idea, General Dameron! No wonder you’re the head of the Resistance. We all bow to your mighty brain power, my lord.”

“I’m being mocked.”

Rey smiles. “Yep,” she says, popping the _p_. She swings her legs around to sit normally and sets the bowl down on the table in front of her. “Relax, Poe. They’re all going to be fine.”

“They should’ve been back yesterday.”

He’s always been protective about Finn and an anxious mess when it comes to sending his troops out on missions, but now it’s a lot worse. He’s barely been able to focus ever since Finn left, and people are starting to notice ( _starting_ —as if it wasn’t painfully obvious from the moment the ship left). Finn is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and even if he wasn’t, he’s got a full crew ready to back him up. But the mission was supposed to be simple. There shouldn’t have been a delay. Poe knows better, but he can’t stop his mind from spiraling towards the worst-case scenario.

“I doubt your presence would have made things any easier,” Rey says, and it’s hurtful and calming at the same time. “I’m sure they just got a bit caught up. You have to relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

“You’ve basically worn a hole through the floor.”

“Don’t you have a tree to knock down or something?” he snaps.

“Already knocked down several today. I’m ahead of schedule.”

He rolls his eyes. Just as he’s about to respond, BB-8 comes through the door, whistling with excitement. Rey jumps to her feet and follows Poe as he sprints down the hallway towards the hangars.

The ship has just landed; the engines are still shutting down. Most of the crew has already gotten off, some of them with newcomers in tow. Poe forces Finn out of his mind for a moment and snaps back into General mode, issuing orders and directing people in different directions. There’s a pilot limping towards him, and he steadies her until he can pass her off to someone else to help her to the med bay. The crowd begins to thin out as mechanics descend on the ship.

“Poe!”

A rush of relief hits his chest, until he turns around and sees that Finn has one bandage around his hand and another just visible at his collar. Poe collides with him, nearly knocking them both off balance. Finn stumbles briefly but manages to keep them both on their feet.

“What did you do to yourself?” Poe asks sternly as they pull away, reaching for Finn’s hand to look it over.

“Good to see you too,” Finn says, faking annoyance, then assures him, “I’m fine. We had a bit of a rougher entrance than we expected. They didn’t like the look of strangers too much.”

“Blasters?”

“A few. These are just scratches. Seriously, I’m _fine_. It looks worse than it is, but this is all we had to patch it up. I’m okay.” He tugs his hand out of Poe’s grasp, then pulls Poe back in for a proper hug. Poe presses his face against Finn’s neck and breathes in deeply to convince himself that Finn is real. “Were you a little worried about me, General?”

“Shut up,” Poe mumbles.

Finn laughs quietly as they pull back. BB-8 is at their feet, and Finn drops to one knee to greet him. Poe lets out a long breath and looks around the hangar. The chaos has settled down now, at least here, but it’s certainly just moved into a new location.

“How’d it go?” he asks.

“Besides the initial encounter, fine.” Finn stands up. “Group of about fifteen—couple more than expected, but better for us, I think. We explained to them who we were and why we were there, and they were pretty eager to hear more about us after that. Must have been a relief to know that we weren’t looking to take them out.” He grimaces.

“They recognize you?”

“Once I gave them my number.”

There’s a sour taste in his mouth whenever Finn mentions his old identity. Poe hates it. He hates being reminded of what the First Order did to Finn and to all of the kids they took from their families. They don’t mention it to each other. Finn only ever brings it up when he has to—like when he’s talking to a group of former stormtroopers.

“Guess it’s my turn then, huh?”

“Be careful with them, okay?”

“Always.” Poe nods. “Make sure you get yourself looked at.”

“I told you I’m fine.”

“Finn.” He shoots him a look.

“Yes, sir,” Finn quips. “Come find me when you’re done?”

“As if I’m gonna leave you alone for any longer than I have to.”

“Get out of here, General. You have other troops to go take care of.”

Poe takes an extra moment, eyes fixed on Finn’s face. Finn tilts his head to the side, then nods towards the door with a tiny smile on his lips. Poe opens his mouth, closes it, and shakes his head. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

* * *

Poe wakes up from a strange dream that he can’t quite remember as soon as he opens his eyes. The room is bathed in moonlight, breaking through the deep blue shadows. Finn is sitting up next to him, staring out the window. Poe shifts onto his back and makes a small noise to indicate to Finn that he’s awake.

Finn glances down at him. “Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out and brushing Poe’s hair back. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t,” Poe responds, voice cracking with sleep. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Finn nods. “Brain’s just moving too fast to fall asleep.”

It’s a feeling Poe is all too familiar with. Finn looks back to the window. The muscles of his back are tensed. Poe extracts his hand from underneath the covers and presses his fingertips lightly against Finn’s skin. Finn shivers, but relaxes slightly at Poe’s touch. He flattens his palm and starts massaging gently, working his way up and down. As he moves closer to Finn’s spine, his fingers find the rough, raised line that travels down the center of Finn’s back.

The medics did a fantastic job of putting Finn back together—Poe doesn’t want to think about how close they were to losing him completely—but the scar remains, a reminder of worse times. Finn covers it up most of the time; he considers himself lucky, Poe knows, that the only visible sign of the war’s toll on him is easily hidden.

“Does it still hurt?” Poe asks quietly, following the scar up to the back of Finn’s neck, where he can feel the knobs of his spine under the skin.

“No. I can almost forget it’s there sometimes. Till I see it in the mirror, at least.”

He wants to ask what it feels like, if it’s the same burn that comes with a blaster shot or if it’s something else entirely. His hand moves from Finn’s back to his own bicep, rubbing over the scar there. Wounded soldiers, the both of them. There’s something poetic about it, but mostly, it just makes him sad.

Finn turns his head to look at Poe again. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” He sits up and wraps his arms around Finn from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. Finn leans his head against Poe’s and sighs. He fidgets with the chain around his neck, rolling the ring back and forth between his fingers. Poe watches as the metal catches the reflection of the moonlight.

“What if I didn’t do enough?” Finn asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I could’ve—I don’t know.” He looks down. “Maybe I left too early.”

“Finn, what are you talking about?”

“There were others like me. Others that wanted to defect but couldn’t. Hundreds, probably, now that we’re tracking them down. Maybe if they had known that they weren’t alone, we could’ve—I could’ve done something.”

“Finn.” His voice is soft. “What could you have done?”

“I don’t know.”

Poe kisses Finn’s shoulder. “When you left, did you have any idea that there were others?”

“No,” he admits quietly.

“What choice did you have?” He lays back against the pillows, guiding Finn with him. Finn turns onto his side and rests his head against Poe’s collarbone. “It wasn’t like you had a ton of time to ignite a revolution. They were going to kill me. You had to make a decision, and you did.”

“But maybe if I had stayed—”

“If you had stayed, I would be dead,” Poe tells him bluntly. His tone is lighter when he asks, “And then what pilot would you have tricked into helping you escape with your pretty brown eyes?”

Finn’s arm tightens around his waist. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Then you can’t talk like that, either.” He cups the back of Finn’s neck and rubs his thumb over his skin. “Finn, there was nothing more you could have done. You did what you had to do. You rescued me, and you made it out alive, and we got to where we are today. There’s no going back and changing any of that.”

“You’re not supposed to be the level-headed one in this relationship,” Finn mutters.

“Hey, I’m plenty level-headed.”

Finn looks up at him with an unamused expression. Poe smiles charmingly and kisses him.

“You never told me what this was from,” Finn says as he settles back down on Poe’s chest. He’s holding onto the ring again, examining it carefully.

“It was my mother’s.”

Finn glances at him, then back at the ring. “Family heirloom?”

“Wedding ring.” His throat is dry all of the sudden.

Finn stills; it’s as if the universe is holding its breath until he whispers, “Poe.”

“It’s not—you don’t have to keep—it wasn’t—I wasn’t—”

“Poe.”

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“Shut up, would you?”

Poe’s mouth snaps shut, and he nods.

Finn smiles at him. “I love you.” Poe relaxes. “And whatever this is—or isn’t—I’m good with. We don’t have to… I like this. Whatever it is.”

“I do too,” he whispers.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“I don’t know.”

It’s the truth. He doesn’t know exactly what he wanted the ring to be. It was a spur of the moment thing; it just felt right to put it around Finn’s neck. And if it was a good luck charm, it seems to have worked. It certainly wasn’t a marriage proposal—he’s way too dramatic (and cheesy, though he would never admit it) to have done it like _that_.

“Not a—not something we have to set in stone, yet.” His face is warm. “But maybe… someday?”

“Someday.” Finn kisses the corner of his mouth. “Sure.”

Poe shifts against the pillows and yawns. Finn is a comfortable weight against him, familiar in a way that he’s been missing. It’s strange to him how quickly he adjusted to sharing a bed, and how heavy Finn’s absence had been. He drags his fingers up and down Finn’s back, as if he can memorize his body through touch. Finn’s thumb, brushing over Poe’s ribs, matches the pace of Poe’s hand.

“You’re scared,” Finn says quietly, breaking the silence that has settled over them.

“You can feel it?” When Finn nods, Poe whispers, “I am. A little. It—it doesn’t go away.” It’s always lingering just underneath the surface, a constant presence that he can sometimes ignore, but it always comes back when he stops for too long.

“What’s there to be scared of right now?”

“Losing you,” he says cautiously. “Losing this. Still. It’s—I’ve always been scared of…” He trails off. “But it’s worse, almost.”

“You’re not going to,” Finn says firmly.

“You can’t know that.”

“I do. You’re not going to lose me, Poe, and I’m not going to lose you. It’s not gonna happen. I won’t let it.”

He wishes he could feel as confident as Finn sounds.

“I was a mess while you were gone. It was bad.”

“Did you blow anything up?”

“No.”

“Did anyone get killed?”

“No.”

“Then I think we’re alright.” There’s a small smile on Finn’s lips. “I missed you, too. But we’re just—we’re the same that we’ve always been.”

“We’re not.”

“What’s different?”

“You’re sleeping in my bed,” Poe points out.

“And that made you miss me more?”

“Yeah, a little.”

Finn lets out a breathy laugh and presses a kiss to the side of Poe’s neck. “Are you still afraid of me?”

“I’ve never been afraid of _you_. What you can do, maybe. What you do to me. But not of you.”

Finn is quiet for a moment. “You’re angry, too.”

“You can sense that?”

“It’s there. It’s like… you’re this big jumble of emotions. Some of them are easier to pick out than others. I think—I’m pretty sure the ones you feel most strongly are the easiest to sense.” He shifts against Poe. “Why are you angry?”

“You went and got yourself hurt.”

Finn laughs again. “Poe, I told you I’m fine. The medics told you I’m fine. You’re going to drive yourself crazy if you spend every waking moment worrying about me.”

“I’ve spent every waking moment since I met you worrying about you.”

“You gotta come up with other things to worry about. I can take care of myself.”

“I know.”

He wants to take care of Finn anyway. He wants Finn to know that he’s cared for. He wants Finn to know that he has someone out there who’s always watching his back. He wants Finn to never forget that someone loves him.

They lay in silence again. Poe stares up at the ceiling, thoughts racing around his head, too quickly for him to make any actual sense out of them. He doesn’t know if they’ll ever slow down, at least not permanently. But when Finn tightens his arm around Poe’s waist and kisses his collarbone softly, the thoughts stall, just for a fraction of a second. But it’s enough. Poe readjusts his hand on Finn’s back, his palm against Finn’s spine and his fingers splayed out over his shoulder muscle. Finn shifts slightly against him. Poe takes a deep breath.

“Finn?” he whispers into the darkness.

“Still here.”

“Can you feel…” he trails off, struggling to figure out how to word the question. “What does love feel like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Can you feel, you know…” His cheeks flush, and he’s grateful that Finn can’t see his face.

“What does it feel like to me or what does it feel like from you?”

“From me.”

Finn’s hand comes up and settles over Poe’s heart, which skips a few beats. He forces himself to inhale and exhale at a normal pace, even though he can’t quite catch his breath. Finn’s eyelashes flutter against his shoulder.

Finn’s voice is soft. “It’s like… a river. Not like I’m standing right next to it, but I know it’s there. When you can hear it a little ways away, and you know that it’s wide, and fast, and deep. You can sort of sense that you’re going to need to find some way over it, because you can’t just wade through it without being swept away.”

“Does it always feel like that?”

“It does from you.” 

Finn’s thumb moves slowly over his skin, sending shivers from Poe’s neck all the way down his body. His heart is basically vibrating in his chest, rather than beating, and he thinks he might explode.

“Has it always been there?” Poe asks.

There’s another moment of silence as Finn considers it. “I don’t know,” he says, and Poe can tell that he’s being honest. “I think it might have been. I just didn’t notice until I went looking for it.” He lets out a breath, warm against Poe’s skin. “You… it’s different. Not that I try to read your emotions all the time,” he clarifies.

“I didn’t think you did.”

“It’d be weird, I think. Feels like I’m invading your privacy.” He shakes his head. “But sometimes it’s just… it’s just _there_ all of a sudden, like this burst of energy that I can’t ignore. But with you, it’s almost harder to figure out what you’re feeling, because you… it’s the same emotions, but it feels different. When you’re angry with me, it’s different than when you’re angry with Rey. Or when you come back from a mission and BB-8 comes up to you, I know you’re happy, but it’s a different happy than when you’re messing around with me or Zorii.”

“Is it not like that with everyone?”

“Depends, I guess.” Finn ducks his head a little, as if he’s embarrassed. “I don’t really spend as much time focused on other people.”

There goes his heart again. Poe laughs softly, because he doesn’t know how else to let the feelings out.

“I think maybe it was there the whole time,” Finn tells him. “The love. At least it was for a long time. I just didn’t realize until later on.”

“‘Cause you couldn’t feel it or because you didn’t realize it was the Force?”

“I don’t know,” he says again. “I don’t know a lot. I don’t really understand how it all works. I doubt I ever will.”

“I don’t get how you can trust something you don’t understand so easily.” Poe shakes his head. “I guess that’s why I’m not a Jedi.”

“I think you’d be a terrible Jedi anyway.”

“Fuck you,” Poe responds half-heartedly. “I don’t _want_ to be a Jedi.”

“I don’t want you to be one either.” Finn kisses his shoulder. “I like you just the way you are.”

“Disgusting,” he teases, and Finn laughs. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He pulls Finn in closer to him and kisses his forehead.

Finn leans into the pressure. “It’s louder now.”

“What?”

“The river.”

Poe can feel it, too. 

Finn readjusts his position again, his knees knocking against Poe’s leg until he settles. He whispers something that sounds vaguely like a _goodnight_ into Poe’s neck. The corner of Poe’s mouth twitches up, and he leans his head against Finn’s.

The ring, free of Finn’s fidgeting, has found a place on Poe’s chest. Poe brings his free hand up and picks it up carefully, running his thumb over the surface. Years and years of Poe’s restlessness have worn the metal down, but the engravings that were once there stick in his mind. His mother wasn’t a cheesy, romantic person, but she had indulged his father when it came to their wedding. The words carved into the ring, in a long-forgotten language from his mother’s childhood, are simple, but they meant everything to his parents, and now to him. _Love. Fearless. Forever._

Finn has finally fallen asleep when Poe whispers, “I love you.”

Whatever brought them together—whether it was the Force or Finn’s intuition or just pure dumb luck—knew what it was doing. Poe doesn’t want to think about how his life would have ended if Finn hadn’t decided to rescue him. He doesn’t understand it, not entirely (not even a little bit, most of the time), but he trusts it. 

Whatever power Finn has, Poe no longer has any reason to be afraid of it. He never had any reason in the first place. Finn is still himself. Which is what Finn told him the first time around, but Poe didn’t fully realize it. Because Finn has always been this way, whether he was aware of it or not. When he rescued Poe, he was the same person that he is now. It was the Force, maybe, that made him unbreakable. The light inside of him burned too brightly. It still burns so brightly that there are times the Poe looks at Finn and is blinded for a second.

Poe is afraid of so many things. It’s all still true, regardless of how illogical some of his fears are. He’s still afraid of dying, he’s still afraid of the dark, he’s still afraid of explosions and nightmares and the possibility of losing Finn.

But he isn’t afraid of Finn.

The dark of his bedroom is no longer sinister when Finn is sleeping on his chest. The nightmares don’t come when Finn is next to him. He can’t lose Finn when Finn is at his side. 

He wonders what he would have thought if he had seen where he is now when he was still on Starkiller, if he had a split-second premonition of his future when he had been so close to death, so close to giving up entirely. He wonders if he would have believed that not only was a stormtrooper on his way to save him, but that that stormtrooper would end up becoming his best friend, greatest ally, and the only person that has ever understood who Poe is. He smiles at the thought.

The galaxy in a state of limbo, of uncertain transition. No one is quite sure where they’re headed, but they all know that they have more reason to have hope now than they ever have before. And wherever they’re going, Poe has Finn. He still doesn’t know who he is without the war, but he thinks he’s off to a pretty good start.

For the first time since the First Order fell, it feels like they’re finally finished. The war is over, and whatever comes next is finally beginning. It starts with him, and it starts with Finn, and it starts, Poe is accepting, with the Force, whatever that means for them.

For now, though, he doesn’t need to worry about it. All that matters is the tiny universe they’ve created inside Poe’s bedroom. When the sun rises and the time comes around, they’ll venture out into the new galaxy and face whatever is coming together.

Poe presses his lips to Finn’s forehead, closes his eyes, and feels his heart settle underneath Finn’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so there it is!!! this was not supposed to be 17k words i honestly had no clue where it was going when i started it but i think i'm pretty happy with how it turned out. very big thank you to my friend kelsey who read through multiple drafts and who i tortured with screenshots for several weeks <3 if you liked it please leave kudos and comments and hmu on tumblr @vaguelyprophetic xx


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